


Everything Important

by postapocalyptic_cryptic



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Needs a Hug, Love, M/M, Prompt Fill, Season/Series 01, Self-Worth Issues, Temporary Blindness, The Dark (The Magnus Archives) - Freeform, defeating Fear with the power of Love tm, they soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postapocalyptic_cryptic/pseuds/postapocalyptic_cryptic
Summary: voiceless-terror said to postapocalyptic-cryptic-fic:yo, it's me again. if you want, i really like 'i cant see' or 'take it easy' with jon and anyone you like!! love your fics <3Prompt fill for my lovely friend Rye on tumblr! I chose "I can't see" with Tim and Season 1. Just some short fluffy goodness with Jon angst. He gets into a statement he shouldn't have and the Dark really doesn't play nice with the Eye.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990216
Comments: 7
Kudos: 144





	Everything Important

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voiceless_terror](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voiceless_terror/gifts).



_“I don’t know if you’ve ever been in the dark,_ really _in the dark, but it’s… It’s nearly indescribable. There’s nothing else like it. You know, you hold your hand in front of your face and you see the phantom of it, but it’s not really there. Anything you can’t feel or hear isn’t real anymore; it’s just gone._

 _“I thought I would die there. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It was like being frozen, but hot. I don’t know how else to say it. I really thought that moment would never end. I couldn’t hear anyone else breathing. I couldn’t hear the instructor. She must have been talking, she_ must _have, but I missed it. Everyone else remembers it._

_“I have to sleep with the lights on now. Medication doesn’t help. I hope this does._

“Statement ends.” Jon sighs, clicking the tape recorder off and dropping his head into his hands. “Oh, Lord.” His head’s spinning and aching, and he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes to try and relieve some of the pressure. Sighing again, he lifts his head and opens his eyes, steeling himself to begin the supplemental. 

What?

He closes his eyes and opens them again, blinking frantically to clear the complete darkness that’s covering his eyes just as thoroughly as the last statement giver described. 

At first, he’s so shocked that he thinks it’s because he rubbed his eyes. He then dismisses the theory as ridiculous. In front of him, ghostly outlines of the things he knew best floated before him: his hand when he held it up, the coffee mug at the edge of his desk, his legs. 

Oh, shit.

Jon takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then decides to start making his way to the break room. 

* * *

Tim’s lunch break is almost over and Jon still hasn’t showed. Not unusual, but still, Tim would rather see him eat something. He’s been especially high-strung the last few weeks, even more so than at the beginning of his new position. Tim had been to his place over the weekend, but even then Jon had been distant and tense. He had been hoping to spend some time with him during lunch. 

Tim’s wish comes true just as he’s getting ready to leave. There’s an odd clattering noise from out in the hallway, and then Jon comes stumbling in, eyes unfocused and hand trailing along the wall. 

“T-Tim?” he stammers, looking around the room but never settling on any one thing. “Are you in here?”

Oh, something is very wrong. Tim knows Jon gets migraines, hell, he’s sat through many a long, painful night with him, and he knows he gets auras that interfere with his vision, but this is new. He’s pretty sure Jon can’t see shit, and that terrifies him. “Yeah, Jon, I’m right here.” He comes closer, setting a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

Jon startles, jumping away from Tim and slamming his hip against the table. As Tim steadies him and guides him to a chair, he says, “Um, I don’t- I’m not… I can’t see at the moment.” 

Tim tries his best not to panic. “Alright. Okay, do you know what happened? Is it a migraine?” 

Jon closes his eyes, gripping Tim’s hand hard enough to grind bones together. “No. It’s… I think it was one of the statements.” 

Tim sets his other hand over the tangle of Jon’s and his own, doing his best to soothe Jon as he tries to chew on that one. A statement. Okay. A genuine statement blinded Jon. Tim thinks of Danny and clowns and spooky worms and takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.” He feels Jon tense up. “I want to take you to Accident and Emergency anyway, alright?” 

“No!” Jon jerks back, opening his eyes and glancing around wildly. “No, no, it’ll be fine. You don’t have to-”

“Jon, you can’t see. This is serious.” Tim kneels down in front of Jon, putting his hands on his thighs and rubbing gently. “I know it’s scary and I know you don’t like A&E, but this isn’t something I’m equipped to deal with.” 

Jon’s eyes squeeze closed again and the first tear slips down his face. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right, I didn’t mean-”

“Jon, hey, that’s not what I meant. You’re not a problem.” This is a small battle in the larger war Tim’s been fighting since the beginning of their relationship, if not longer. Jon is convinced that Tim’s constantly on the verge of leaving him, one wrong move or word or _problem_ away from ditching him and never speaking to him again. Tim’s tried time and again to tell him otherwise, but showing is the only way he’s been able to make progress, however slow. He tries again now. “I’m just worried, that’s all. Can you tell me a bit more about what happened?” 

Jon looks down in Tim’s general direction. Long, damp lashes flutter and Jon makes a few false starts before beginning his explanation. “I was- I was reading a statement about a woman who was trapped in the dark. She couldn’t see anything. She was so- so- so- so- she was so _scared,_ Tim, she was so scared, and, and, and….” Tim squeezes his legs and Jon takes another breath. “And when I stopped and closed my eyes to gather my wits, I opened them and I was, well-” He gestures vaguely to his face- “blind. Like she was.” 

Tim redoubles his efforts in soothing Jon as his breathing picks up, making soft shushing noises and catching an anxiously flapping hand in his own. “Alright, sweetheart, I’ll tell you what.” Jon turns his face back to Tim, open and panicked and vulnerable. “We’ll take you back to your office and hunker down on the couch for a little while. I’m going to set a timer for an hour and a half, and if you still can’t see, we’re going to A&E. If anything gets worse, I’m calling 999. Deal?” 

Jon sniffs, then nods. “Deal.” 

“Alright.” Tim gets to his feet, hauling Jon up with him and tugging him into a quick hug, ending with a kiss on the head. Tim has way too much fun being tall enough to kiss the top of Jon’s head at will. “Want me to walk you back or…?” Tim scoops Jon off his feet and into a bridal carry to the tune of several indignant squeaks. 

“Tim! You can’t carry me through to office, that’s so unprofessional, I can’t believe you would even-”

“Really, boss? You can’t believe?” Tim laughs, carting Jon through the door and checking for passersby before jogging down the hallway, Jon complaining all the way. “You seem sort of giggly for someone who’s not enjoying it.” Tim slows down as they approach the office, and Jon relaxes, tucking his face into Tim’s chest and loosening the death grip on his shirt. “There you are, boss.” 

“Hmm.” 

* * *

The couch in Jon’s office isn’t the best for cuddling. It’s short and ratty and slightly stained. It smells like old woman. It’s really not the pinnacle of romance and comfort, but it’ll do. Tim sets Jon down, leaving him to tug his shoes off and get settled while Tim clears the statement from his desk. He tries not to look too hard at it, tucking it into a drawer. He double-checks the lock on the door and checks his phone for any lingering texts and emails. Then, there’s nothing left but to swallow his pounding heart and go take care of his boy. 

Jon’s sitting with his feet up on the couch, anxious tears dripping down his face and hands twisting in his lap. Tim toes his shoes off noisily, letting Jon turn his face towards him before sitting down next to him. 

“Hey, sweetheart, take a deep breath,” Tim murmurs. “I’m going to touch your face now, alright?” Jon nods and Tim reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. Jon leans into him, closing his eyes again. “There we go. Let’s lay down.” 

Tim takes Jon by the shoulders and coaxes him into a more comfortable position, letting him shuffle around until Tim’s propped up against the arm of the couch and Jon’s sprawled across his chest and between his legs. Tim tangles a hand in his hair and runs the other one up and down his back, trying to ease the trembling. 

“Tim?” Jon asks after a few moments, voice quiet. 

“Mm?”

Jon chokes on a sob. “What if… What if it’s permanent?” 

Tim’s whole body tenses and he has to consciously keep himself from pulling Jon’s hair. It won’t be permanent. It can’t be. This is just an aura, or some crazy stress thing, or hell, actually supernatural, but it’s not permanent. It’s not. “It’ll fade, Jon, I promise. And if it doesn’t, we’ll go to the doctor and they’ll fix it.” Jon’s shoulders hitch again and Tim holds him closer. “I love you, Jon. Everything will be fine.” 

“I love you, too,” Jon mumbles into his chest. 

“That’s all that matters, okay?” Tim says into his hair. He punctuates the statement with a kiss. “That’s all that matters.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Also, I had to drag myself out of The Penumbra Podcast hell to finish this oop-  
> Find me on tumblr @postapocalyptic-cryptic-fic and have a lovely day!


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